


Christmas Spirit

by allhailthehutch



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27982410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allhailthehutch/pseuds/allhailthehutch
Summary: Christmas has always been my sister’s favorite time of year. She loves the music, the lights, and the presents. It’s the only time in her life that she can actually be a kid. She doesn’t have to think about hospital beds and doctors—or her failing heart.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 91





	Christmas Spirit

Christmas has always been my sister’s favorite time of year. She loves the music, the lights, and the presents. It’s the only time in her life that she can actually be a kid. She doesn’t have to think about hospital beds and doctors—or her failing heart. 

Prim has always been optimistic, despite the fact that she’s spent a better part of her twelve years on Earth in a hospital. And now I’m all she has left. I’m the one who is responsible for her.

My dad died right after Prim was born, which caused my mother to spiral out of control. You would think when Prim got sick that she would have managed to sober up, but I guess I gave her way too much credit.

Prim has always had the biggest heart, but it definitely isn’t the strongest. She was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy right after her fifth birthday. Her condition was manageable in the beginning, but it’s clear we’re reaching the end. There’s only one option left for my sister, and that’s a new heart. You hear about children on transplant lists, waiting and wondering if your child will be next. Well, it’s agonizing. Prim has been on the donor’s list for the past six months. The longer we wait, the worse she gets. 

I don’t believe in miracles—or the spirit of Christmas—but maybe there’s a little magic still left in this fucked up world. 

I tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “How are you feeling, little duck?”

Prim struggles to take a breath. “I wish we could have a Christmas tree,” she tells me, a frown forming on her face. I know she’s hurting. I know she can’t breathe, but she’ll never tell me that. “Do you think they’d let us have a little one? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve!”

“I’m not sure,” I tell her with a sad smile, even though she can’t see it behind my mask. “We would have to talk to one of the nurses.”

It’s a difficult pill to swallow, waiting for a heart. My sister receiving a donation means another child will have to die. The very thought of that makes me ill, but I need my sister to survive. She’s the only person I have in the world. 

The sound of her door opening shakes me from my thoughts.

“Hey, Prim.”

His voice instantly brings a smile to my little sister’s face. Even though she’s got a mask on, I know she’s grinning from ear to ear because her eyes crinkle. Peeta—Dr. Mellark—has a way about him... not that I have time to notice those things, but it’s obvious his patients adore him. Prim certainly does. 

“So, how are you feeling today?” After he finishes scrubbing his hands, Peeta sits in the rolly chair next to Prim’s bed. “I know it sucks being here so close to Christmas,” he tells her. “But I have a good feeling that you’ve got a heart coming your way.”

I hate his optimism. It’s infuriating. It shouldn’t be any surprise that he’s a pediatric heart surgeon. He’s unfailingly kind, thoughtful, and protective of his patients. When Prim got really sick, I decided to transfer her care to one of the best children’s hospitals in the country. We relocated our entire life to come here, and then we met Peeta. Prim has had a lot of doctors over the years, but no one has even come close to Peeta. He’s tough without being mean. Honest without sugarcoating the details. 

“Can I have a Christmas tree?” 

I cringe as the question leaves her mouth. “Prim, I don’t—” 

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Peeta interrupts. “Can’t have Christmas without a tree.” 

Stupid tears begin to well up in my eyes, and I quickly turn away from them to wipe the dampness from my cheeks. Why is something so simple making me so emotional? 

“Katniss, you gotta go get a tree!” 

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. How the hell am I supposed to find any sort of decoration this late? I make a mental note to hit up Target when Prim is sleeping to find a tree. I sit in the corner, watching Peeta as he listens to Prim’s heart and lungs with his oranged-colored stethoscope. 

“Lungs sound great,” Peeta says. “I want you to get some rest, okay?”

Prim nods her head. 

“Katniss, can I speak with you privately outside?”

Those words take me back to when Prim was first diagnosed. I know that whatever words will be coming out of Peeta’s mouth, they won’t be good. I give Prim a quick kiss on the forehead before I step outside with him. 

I can't see his expression, but his pale blue eyes tell me everything I need to know. “I don’t think Prim can wait much longer for a donor heart,” he says. “She’s declining rapidly. We’ve exhausted all our other options, I’m afraid..”

“So find her a fucking heart! Give her mine! Do what you promised me,” I yell, tears welling up in my eyes. “You told me that you were the best shot my sister had. She can’t die.”

I should feel guilty about my sudden outburst. I know it’s not his fault that my sister is dying. He’s doing everything he can, but I'm pissed off and need someone to take my anger out on. 

“I understand that this isn’t easy for you.” He runs a hand through his hair. “And I wish I had better news for you, but the reality is that without a donor heart, I can’t see Prim making it to New Years.”

It’s as if he’s speaking to me in slow motion. I can hear what he’s saying, and I know deep down it’s true, but I can’t bring myself to accept this reality. Prim doesn’t deserve this. Why couldn’t I be the one with the shitty heart? 

“My sister is going to die because you can’t guarantee her a heart?”

Peeta looks over at my sister and then back at me. “We just need to have a little faith, Katniss.”

I’ve never been a big believer in religion. Is there really some higher power that controls everything? I doubt it. The idea of faith seems so foreign to me. I believe in medicine, science, and cold, hard facts. The facts are that, while Prim is high on the donor list, things can change rapidly. The fact is that she could die before a heart even becomes available. 

I don’t have anything else to say to Peeta, and I think he senses that. I turn away from him. He softly tells me goodnight and then leaves. I fight the urge to turn back around and watch him walk away.

Prim is bursting with excitement when she wakes up on Christmas Eve. A fresh blanket of snow covers the grounds of the hospital, and more is expected to come as the day goes by. 

“I’m gonna go get some coffee,” I tell her, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Try not to drive any of the nurses crazy.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

The canteen isn’t busy this morning. Usually, I am stuck waiting in an obnoxious line. I glance over to the large windows in the cafeteria, and there he is. Truthfully, I don’t know much about Prim’s doctor. I know that his name is Peeta. He’s got blond, curly hair, piercing blue eyes, and... that’s about it. He looks up from his phone, and I can see his eyes crinkle, which I know means he’s smiling at me. 

I approach him sheepishly, knowing I should apologize for my behavior yesterday. 

“Hey, Katniss,” he says. “How's Prim doing? I’ll be up to check on her soon.” 

“She’s okay. Tired of lying in a hospital bed.”

I may not be able to see Peeta’s entire face, but his eyes tell me everything I need to know. Not only is he extremely sympathetic, but empathetic. It’s almost as if he’s been through this type of hardship before. 

“You’re doing a great job with her,” he tells me. “I know it can’t be easy on you.”

I’ve never really given a second thought about taking care of Prim. When my mom decided to choose getting high over caring for her kids, I knew that my little sister needed me to step up. Her symptoms started so suddenly. One day Prim was a healthy kid, and then the next she was struggling to catch her breath after playing outside. We didn’t have insurance, and I was only sixteen at the time. I took her to the hospital, and they did a bunch of tests. Everything they were saying to me was terrifying. I didn’t understand a word of it. 

All I knew was that my sister had a bad heart, and she would never have a normal childhood. So there I was, a teenager expected to take care of a child. No one could help me. I applied for Medicaid, which helped some, but we still had bills and medicines that I couldn’t afford. I’m not sure how we managed for all these years, but we somehow have made the best of it. 

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for her,” I say. “I know she’s in great hands.”

Peeta chuckles softly. “She’s a special girl. I meet a lot of kids in this line of work, but Prim… she’s something else.” 

It’s then that I spot the most perfect little Christmas tree in the hospital’s gift shop. There’s nothing particularly special about this tree—it’s got some lights on it, and that’s about it. I check around the store for some ornaments, but they are pretty much gone. 

“Prim is gonna love the tree,” Peeta says. “I mean — you will need to decorate it, obviously.”

“Do you think she’s got enough strength to help me?” 

Peeta looks at me, brows furrowed. I’m sure he thinks the question is obvious, and that Prim shouldn’t be doing anything but sleeping. But his answer surprises me.

“I think this is exactly what she needs,” he says with a smile. “I’ll hang around just in case, but a little tree decorating should be just fine.” 

“She’s gonna be so happy!” 

We chit-chat casually as we make our way back to the Cardiac ICU. We’re just about to reach Prim’s room when I hear it: _Code Blue_. 

Everything happens so fast. I hear the monitors going crazy. Peeta runs. Nurses swarm around my sister. I’ve seen this before, but it doesn’t make it any less traumatic. Peeta looks at me with sympathetic eyes, and I know we are getting close to the end. One of the nurses escorts me out, and I scream at them to let me stay. 

They’re in her room for what feels like hours, doing God- knows-what to her. It isn’t until Peeta comes out, sweat dripping off his forehead, that I finally get answers. 

“She’s resting comfortably now, but her heart stopped,” he tells me matter of factly. “We had to bring her back…”

I fight the tears building up in my eyes. “This is the end,” I say. “She’s going to die, isn’t she?”

He’d already told me last night that she wouldn’t make it past New Years without a new heart, but I realize I’d been letting myself believe there would be a Christmas miracle. 

“It’s not looking good, but you just need to have—”

“Don’t fucking tell me to have faith,” I snap. “I want my sister to live! You need to fix her.”

I don’t give him a chance to respond. I storm down the hallway, away from the harsh reality of my life. The last thing I want to do is talk to him, or talk to anyone. I really need to take a walk outside. Away from the smell of this stupid hospital. 

The frigid air hits my face immediately. I had to get out of there, even if it’s only for a few minutes. I pull down my mask and take in a deep breath of cold, snowy air. Prim’s vitals are tanking. Her heart is barely pumping. We thought she had longer, but time is not on our side. 

I hear the hospital doors open, and that’s when I spot him. He couldn’t just leave me alone for two minutes? But Peeta doesn’t appear to notice me. He storms off, ripping his mask off in frustration, and slumps down to the ground. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen his full face, and he’s… handsome. Actually, he’s more than handsome. He’s fucking hot. He’s got this chiseled jawline and full lips. His cheeks are still flushed from saving Prim’s life. 

What am I doing? I can’t be thinking about Peeta this way. He’s Prim’s _doctor_. Still, I can’t help but stare. I’m not sure what compels me, but I make my way over to him. 

“Dr. Mellark?”

Peeta looks up at me, quickly putting his mask back on. “Hey Katniss,” he says. I can hear in his voice that he’s exhausted. So am I. We all are. “I didn’t think you would be out here. I can find another wall to lean against.”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier, I just can’t see her like that,” I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes. “all the tubes and machines...it’s just too much.”

I find I’m craving the comfort of his presence. Peeta is the only person in the world who truly understands how I am feeling. He wants Prim to survive just as much as I do. I can feel it. 

“I feel like I’m failing her,” he says. “I told you to have faith, and I really believed she had a chance, but now...”

This is the first time I’ve ever seen Peeta breakdown. He’s always been so strong, so confident in his abilities as a doctor. “I’ve never met anyone like your sister, and I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to do more for her.”

I know that he means that. Every person that meets Prim is dazzled by her. But I’m so tired. Tired of fighting with insurance companies, tired of fighting with myself. I just want this all to be over. So I say nothing. What is there to say?

“I’m gonna head back in and try to get some rest,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “You should try and do the same.” 

“Do you wanna get a drink?” I blurt out. “I realize that’s probably super inappropriate, and I know I should be in the chapel praying or something, but all I want is a fucking drink.” 

Peeta chuckles softly. “I am technically on call, but I will walk over there with you,” he says. “Trust me, though, I’d love nothing more than a drink.”

The bar across the road is dimly lit and pretty empty. They have it somewhat decorated for Christmas, with multi-color twinkle lights hanging from the bar, and a small Christmas tree in the corner. There’s only one other person sitting at the counter. Now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in a bar. Between Prim and the pandemic, life hasn’t allowed for it. 

We find a seat in a corner somewhere, and I order a Blue Moon. Peeta sticks to club soda.

Seeing him without his mask makes me feel a sense of comfort. I always just saw him as Prim’s doctor, but now I see him as something… more. He’s a normal guy. It’s always been hard for me to connect with people, but with Peeta it all just seems so easy. We sit in a comfortable silence for what feels like an eternity, but finally Peeta speaks first. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I hate that I can’t fix this for you.”

I shrug. “You’re doing more than anyone else has ever done,” I tell him, fidgeting with my beer bottle. “So, why did you decide to become a doctor?”

“I’ve always wanted to help people,” he says before taking a sip of his soda. “I was a pretty sickly kid growing up, and when I got older, I wanted to dedicate my time to helping kids.” 

I can’t imagine Peeta sickly. He looks like the picture of health to me. “I’m sorry,” I tell him awkwardly. I’m so horrible at this. He’s trying to open up, and I’m failing. “Was it serious, like Prim?”

“I had a really serious case of asthma growing up.” So, he knows what it feels like not to be able to breathe, something Prim has experienced often. “I wasn’t in good shape because I could barely run outside without becoming short of breath. It was just not a good time for me, but I got older, and I was able to control my asthma, and now here I am. I mean—you won’t catch me running marathons or anything like that, but I can do this.”

Whenever I think that he can't surprise me, he somehow manages to. I never pictured Peeta that way. I realize that maybe I don’t know as much as I originally thought. 

“This whole thing is really fucked up,” I finally say. “My sister is barely hanging on, and I’m sitting here drinking.”

Peeta reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it gently. “Katniss, you’re allowed to give yourself a little time to process this,” he reminds me. “You’ve been Prim’s caretaker since you were a teenager. It’s okay to let go every once in a while.”

Maybe he’s right. I never had a normal young adult life. It’s always been doctor appointments, medications, and God-only-knows what else. 

“How do you do it?” I ask him. “How do you not go crazy seeing kids die?”

“I remember the good stories,” he says, looking down at the table. “I’ve performed hundreds of surgeries on so many kids, and when they come back and see me—healthy and happy—it makes it all worth it.” 

He sighs loudly. “It hurts to lose a patient. I remember every detail about them,” he tells me. “I go over it in my head everytime I go to scrub in. You never forget the look on a parent's face when you have to tell them their child is gone.”

I want to comfort him. I’m not sure how I can, but the urge is there. I chew on my bottom lip, wondering if he will have to deliver that news to me. I desperately want to change the subject, because the idea of hearing Peeta tell me that Prim is gone is just too much to handle. 

_“_ I’ll Be Home for Christmas _”_ comes on the jukebox, and I can’t help but smile. It reminds me of the first Christmas we ever spent in a hospital. Prim was afraid Santa wouldn’t be able to find her because the hospital didn’t have a chimney. So I sang the song to her to calm her down, and ever since then it’s been her favorite Christmas song. 

“Do you wanna dance?” he asks. 

His request makes my cheek burn. This is so weird. Everything about this day is weird, but I decide to just go with it. 

“Sure,” I say, holding out my hand. “I’d love to.” 

Peeta grabs my hand and leads me to the empty dance floor. “I’m not the best dancer,” I tell him, fumbling to figure out where to put my hands. “You’ll have to take the lead.” 

He smiles at me again, and my heart starts to beat faster in my chest. I can’t stop myself from staring into his eyes. They’re the most unique shade of blue I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen the ocean in person, but Peeta’s eyes are how I imagine it would look. They are that same crystal blue, with tiny flecks of green. I could stare at them forever.

“I’m sorry again for yelling at you earlier,” I say, breaking the silence between us. “It was wrong of me to blame you for what’s going on with my sister. You’re doing everything you can for her.”

“Sometimes it just doesn’t feel like enough,” he admits. “I wish there was more I could do.” 

“You’ve done enough.” My eyes trail down to his lips. “Trust me…”

I’m not sure what comes over me. Maybe it’s the desperation in his eyes, or maybe it’s the want in mine. But it’s been so long since I’ve felt this way about anyone. My eyes dart to his lips, those perfect, kissable lips. It’s wrong. He’s Prim’s doctor, but I want to feel something, anything that isn’t pain.

So I kiss him. 

He rests his forehead against mine, taking in a deep breath. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” 

My heart beats hard and loud in my chest. I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, inching in closer to him so that our bodies are flush against each other. “So kiss me, Peeta.” 

He presses his lip against mine, deeper and slower this time, and as soon as I taste him, I’m a goner. I’ve been kissed many times in my life, but something about Peeta is different. His hands are everywhere, in my hair, on my ass… everywhere. 

I could kiss him forever. 

He tastes like peppermint gum. The way he kisses me is better than anything I could ever imagine. I don’t care that this is wrong. I don’t care that nothing will ever come of this. All I care about is the feel of his lips on mine, finally giving me the chance to let go. 

In this moment nothing else matters. It’s just Peeta and me, forgetting about all the horrible shit going on in the world. I’m not sure how long we stay kissing on the dance floor, but it isn’t until Peeta’s beeper goes off that we come up for air. 

“It’s the hospital,” he says, looking at the number. “We should go.”

I’m preparing for the worst when I walk into the cardiac ICU. But Prim is still intubated and sleeping peacefully. I grab the chair and pull it up next to her bed. 

“I really need you to fight this,” I tell her. “You can’t leave me alone in this world.”

I feel guilty for kissing Peeta. I shouldn’t be focusing on anything other than my sister. She’s lying here, dying, and I’m off, making out with her doctor. It’s fucked up.  Everything is fucked up.

The door to her room opens, and it’s Peeta, wearing a fresh set of dark blue scrubs. I stand up, preparing myself for the bad news. 

“She’s getting a heart, Katniss.”

“Repeat what you just said,” I demand. 

“Prim is getting her heart,” he says, smiling beneath his mask. “The transplant team is prepping the O.R now, and we’re gonna take her up. It’s really happening.

I know that I’m not supposed to, and I’m not sure what comes over me, but I jump into his arms, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him tightly. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, tears beginning to stream down my face, soaking my mask. 

“Thank you,” I cry. “ _Thank you thank you thank you_.”

“I told you to have faith,” he reminds me. “I will have one of the nurses update you as soon as possible. But hang in there. It’s gonna be a long night.” 

As Peeta walks away, preparing to give my sister the heart we’ve been hoping for, there’s only one thing I can say. “Hey, Peeta,” I call out. “Merry Christmas.”

Peeta turns around, quickly jogging back to me. Before I can say anything, he pulls me in for a hug. He pulls down his mask for just a moment and whispers in my ear. 

“Merry Christmas, Katniss.”

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to my editor Caryn for pushing me to write again. I hope everyone has a wonderful and safe holiday season. xoxoxo


End file.
